Beautiful Boy
by RosemarieCraig
Summary: House gets a call in the middle of the night, and, within a blink of an eye is the father of a six year old boy with special needs. Luckily Cameron is on hand to help out.
1. Chapter 1

It was an unknown caller. In the middle of the night. And the phone was on the other side of the room. Just after a breakthrough pain episode he'd treated with a small dose of morphine. No wonder Greg House didn't answer. But the phone rang almost continuously for ten minutes, until the man rolled slowly and painfully out of bed to hobble down the corridor, leaning on the walls and wincing with each step. He grabbed the phone and snapped down it.

"What?"

"Is that Dr Gregory House?" came a man's voice. He sounded tired and frustrated.

"This is his phone, in his house"

"She said you would answer like that"

"Who?"

"Dr Cuddy. That's how I got this number. I'm afraid she thinks you're in trouble with the law!"

"Why are you calling? Who are you anyway?"

"I'm Pete Townsend, a social worker from New York. I need to talk to you about Stacy and Mark Warner"

"What's wrong?" House gripped the table hard, trying not to be worried and balancing his leg.

"I'm afraid that they both died in a car accident earlier this morning"

"No..." House whispered. He knew he didn't stand a chance with his ex, but he had loved her, perhaps even more than he loved Cuddy.

"I'm very sorry. I'm really here to talk about the arrangements for your son"

"My _what_?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Your son, Spencer? It says here that you were notified of his birth, and you've had visitation rights every weekend since he was six weeks old. Although you have never come to see him" the man seemed to be accusing the numb House, but he didn't notice. He had slumped down onto his couch. A son?

"I never knew..."

"But it says-"

"Then someone filled in the form wrong. I've never been told"

"We're having some trouble with Spencer"

"What kind of trouble?"

"Due to his complex special needs-" at that, House reached for the scotch on his coffee table. "We've been unable to find him a foster career. Would you be willing to take him, for a week or so? Then we can review, and if it's best, get him into a more permanent home"

"This is... a lot to take in. Did Stacy" House paused "Was it painful?"

"It was very quick. Their car collided with a truck, and that sent it rolling off a cliff off the interstate. Spencer was with his SEN worker"

"Oh God... Yeah, yeah, I'll take him. Of course I will"

"Thank you so much, Dr House. I'm sure that you'll be fine. Let me tell you a bit about Spencer"

"Go for it. I have all night" House said, masking his horror and curiosity with snark.

"Firstly, he has autism, which makes him almost non verbal, he doesn't really make eye contact, although he'll want a lot of physical contact. He hates change. He can't cope with loud noises. But he adores music, especially the piano"

"I play piano" he said quietly

"That's good. Also, Spencer has pica. That means he has a compulsion to eat everything, even if it's not good for him"

"I'd better clean out my apartment of small objects then, huh" House mused, shocked by how bad it was. He'd been expecting nothing worse than dyslexia or ADHD.

"He also has a wheelchair, although he doesn't use it very often, only when he's very tired"

"I can't push a chair"

"I know, your leg will be a hindrance in your son's care. Is there anyone who would come to live with you for a month at the maximum while you look after Spencer?" Names ran though House's head. His first thought, as it always was, was Wilson. But he wouldn't trust House enough to let him be with the kid. Then there was Cuddy. But she wouldn't move in with him, and she had Rachel. Stacy was dead. There was no way he would ask Foreman, or Chase. The only candidate, then, was Cameron. She would be caring. She would take care of both Spencer and House himself. She wouldn't mind sharing a place with him.

"Yeah. I'll come up to New York first thing in the morning"

"Goodbye Dr Hou-" House cut him off and dropped his phone, taking a large gulp of scotch. He had a son. A real son. And he had special needs. What the hell was he supposed to do now?


	3. Chapter 3

It took him all night to clear the floor and surfaces of all objects that the six year old could put in his mouth. For once, he put all his pills in a locked cupboard. It wouldn't be good if he let the kid eat a bottle of Vicodin. Definitely not. As soon as his apartment was ready, he called Cameron. It was almost nine. He'd packed an overnight bag and taken some extra pills so he would be able to survive the long drive.

"Morning. I need a favour" he said, without preamble. He heard the babble of the hospital cafeteria from the other end of the phone. Who knew she was in by nine? He was never there until ten.

"What is it?" she asked

"My ex-girlfriend just died, and I just found out that I have a six year old son with complex special needs. I'm taking care of him until they can find someone who can do it properly"

"Oh my god! You have a child? How could you not have known?"

"Stacy didn't see fit to tell me" House said, running a hand down his face, trying to rub away the feeling of hurt and numbness that hadn't alleviated since he'd hung up on the social worker.

"I'm so sorry, House. What do you want me to do?"

"Come with me to New York to get him. And then live with me until he's placed"

"What? Live with you? Have you asked Wilson yet?"

"He'd go all mother hen on my ass. I chose you to work for me, I chose you to help me look after my son. No more questions, just answer."

"Yeah, okay, I'll come, and I'll help as much as possible"

"Thanks. Meet me at my apartment in fifteen minutes" and he put down the phone. House sighed, rubbing his thigh. It would be a long day.


	4. Chapter 4

Cameron stood outside House's door with a small bag she'd grabbed from her locker at the hospital. House was checking the door was locked, as though trying to delay the inevitable journey. She was wrapped up in a thick warm coat, shivering slightly in the snow. He didn't bother to put on anything warmer than his usual black leather jacket.

"Come on. Let's go" she said gently. He sighed and rubbed his face. Her heart melted all over again for the suddenly vulnerable man.

"Fine. Where's your car?"

"Just down the end of the road"

"Wonderful, you're going to make a cripple walk in the snow and ice" he said snidely. Cameron dismissed his comment, knowing he was winding her up. They set off slowly round the corner, House taking painfully careful steps. His leg twinged suddenly, and he slipped an inch or two, his heart skipping a beat. Cameron reached out to grab his elbow but he recovered himself quickly, pushing her away. She sighed. It would be a long month if he wouldn't accept her help.

"Here we are then. We can get to New York in about an hour"

"Okay" they got into the car, and House shivered slightly at the cool leather. Cameron turned the radio on, and pop music blared over the speakers. House began to fiddle with the dial, frowning at the racket. Cameron rolled her eyes and pulled off his road. He finally settled on a classical jazz station and relaxed into his seat, rubbing his leg. They sat in silence, House's eyes closed, listening to the music, his fingers tapping to the piano notes. "I can't believe she didn't tell me about him" House said as they entered New York State.

"It's weird. I would have told the dad, even if we'd broken up"

"You always were the moral upstanding one though"

"You say that like it's a bad thing"

"It is, in large doses"

"Am I a large dose"

"You keep us human. You keep me human" he corrected, looking at her for the first time that day. She blushed confusedly.

"Um, thanks?"

"This morning, I was trying to think of who to call to help me. Wilson would be annoying, he'd physco-analyze everything. Cuddy wouldn't even consider living with me. Chase wouldn't care. Forman... I wouldn't even consider calling him. I only call my Mom when I'm about to die, which is more often than I'd like. So that left you. Sweet, caring Cameron."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or offended" She was confused at his strange speech, and didn't know what to say. She pushed her hair away from her face, embarrassed by the attention.

"Be flattered" he said quietly. They went back to silence, except now it was peaceful, not charged with awkwardness. Eventually, Cameron pulled up outside a tall building in New York, and House got out of the car uncomfortably, testing his leg on the ground before stepping out. He winced, pulled out a Vicodin and exhaled slowly through gritted teeth. Cameron looked worriedly at his attempts to hide his pain. There was no fooling her. House limped slowly up the steps leading to the front door of the building. His son was in there, somewhere. Spencer House.

The social worker had taken him and Cameron to a brightly coloured room and offered them child sized plastic chairs. House had scoffed at them, and leant against the wall instead. Five minutes later, they heard footsteps and humming outside. The door opened and two women and a little boy entered. House looked at his son. He had thick black hair, bright blue eyes, and he was smiling. Behind his eyes, House could sense deep thought, isolated from the world. Spencer was humming softly, a tune House had never heard. His hands were flapping slightly, tense at the side of his body like a penguin. He walked on tiptoes, looking down to the ground. Food, drool, grass, mud and several other unidentifiable liquids were smeared down his green T-shirt. He was beautiful. House went towards him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Heya Spencer. I'm your Daddy. You're going to come live with me for a while"

"There's no need to tell him everything, he doesn't understand" said one of the women. House scowled at her and dismissed them both silently. The little boy didn't look at him, and didn't acknowledge him at all. House sighed and glanced at Cameron, almost as though looking for reassurance. He was out of his depth. Peter, the social worker, presented him with some forms and he signed mechanically. Spencer came towards House and took his hand, leading him out of the room.

"Where's he going?" House asked.

"I think he just wants to go home, with you" Peter smiled "you'll be okay, you know. I've seen people pull out all the stops from positions far worse than yours, and they've all done wonders for the health of their children. Good luck, Dr House"

"Cheers" he said, feeling the stickiness of the child's hand in his. Spencer picked up everything as they went past it, putting plastic, paper and toys into his mouth. House hooked them out quickly, earning a smile from a shell shocked Cameron. House buckled the boy into the back of the car and they left to go back to his apartment.

"Thank you for coming" House almost growled

"That's okay. I didn't realise he would be so... Autistic"

"Well, that makes two of us" they fell silent, and Spencer started humming Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. To Cameron's surprise, House hummed softly with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Within five minutes of pulling onto the interstate, House was asleep. Cameron gazed fondly at him, watching his face relax. He always looked vulnerable when he was asleep. She'd watched him too many times in his office as he napped, exhausted from his pain, on his yellow chair. She knew the stages of his rest. He would start slowly relaxing, his mouth opening slightly, his scowl melting away, the lines on his face loosening. But after an hour or so, he would start to sink into dreams. His face would tense again, his hand automatically going to his leg, his muscles on edge. His mouth would twitch in unspoken words and he would gasp awake, clutching his thigh and breathing heavily. He would rub his eyes. He would stand up shakily and move to his desk, immediately begin playing with a ball, and she would go in and let him let off steam. She had the routine down to a science, without him knowing. Cameron glanced in the mirror, checking Spencer. The boy, who looked so much like House, stared back at her, totally silent, taking in her attitude, her expression. She looked away, slightly intimidated by the boy's perceptive stare. As House was about to enter a nightmare, Cameron shook his shoulder, pulling into his street.  
"House. House, wake up!" she said, shaking him. He started awake, his hand curling around his thigh "I'm going to stop by my place and get stuff for a week, okay? That'll be enough to last a while. I'm staying as long as you need me"  
"Thank you" he said begrudgingly. Cameron smiled at him and got out of the car, giving him privacy to stand up. She busied herself with getting Spencer out of his seat, watching her boss from the corner of her eye. He dragged himself to his feet and, leaning heavily on his cane, hobbled up the street to his home, watching Cameron easily carry his son behind them. He longed suddenly for the ability to do that simple thing. The kid couldn't be more than sixty lbs, he was tiny. And his own father couldn't even carry him. Spencer seemed overwhelmed at the new environment, at the new people carrying him, at the vibes of anger coming from the man in front of him carrying a large stick. He stared, wide eyed at everything, keeping very quiet.  
"I'll just put him down on the couch, and I'll be back in fifteen minutes"  
"Okay" House refused to show himself, let alone her, the deep insecurity he felt at being able to take care of the child, even for such a short period. Cameron deposited Spencer and left, throwing a glance over her shoulder. It would take her a maximum of ten minutes to get her things, and then she would wait outside their door, listening. If House didn't need her help, she'd let him bond with his soon as Cameron was gone, the diagnostician turned to his son. Spencer was chewing on his T-shirt, fixing him with large, bright blue eyes.  
"Right. First off, I'm your dad, kay? Not that weird man who lived with your Mommy" House didn't quite know what he was saying. Spencer was still fixed on him. "You can't eat any small white things you find. I know they smell good, but you can't eat them. They'll... Hurt your inside" Spencer made a noise like a F1 car and stood up. His hands were tense at his sides again, his head leant back staring at the ceiling, his shoulders hunched and walking on tiptoes. House watched him walk around, trying to fit everything in his mouth. But he'd been thorough in his cleaning mission. Spencer looked back at him, his blue eyes searching him.  
"Spencer, how about we play with this fire truck?" House took a chunky toy from Spencer's bag and put it on the floor near him. He sat down on the sofa and watched him play, analysing him. He began to talk quietly, murmuring to his son about nothing of importance. He thought of the last autistic child he had met, Adam. He'd been a mystery, a reflection of himself. But Spencer wasn't like that. He wasn't just a reflection, he was a part. A permanent part. Sure, he wouldn't live with House forever, just a couple of weeks, but he would always be his son.  
"So Spencer, what do you do for fun? You like monster trucks?" House asked, not expecting an answer. Spencer looked over his shoulder at his father, staring intently into his matching blue eyes. He giggled at some private joke and went back to his toy, compulsively spinning the large wheels. Cameron leant against the door outside, listening to House talk to his son. She didn't go in. They would be fine for a while. She smiled to herself. He was connecting. Her heart melted again. They were both soft.

**I'm liking this House, and Spencer will become a more interesting character in his own right. Prepare yourself for a little Hameron going on, and maybe some Anti-Stacey rambling. Read and Review, please! Reviews-better than candy canes. Xx**


	6. Chapter 6

Cameron finally entered the apartment, brandishing Chinese. Spencer jumped up, his eyes looking at House's guitar, his head pointing to Cameron.

"Hungry, Spencer?" House said, glancing a thank you at Cameron and taking to food from her. Spencer sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, and banged his hands flat on the surface. He looked at the food with impossibly blue eyes. House looked at his son, watching his every movement, doling out the food from the cartons onto plastic plates. Cameron watched House, seeing the changes in his face. She saw the relaxed look, mixed with analysis and concern, but also developing love. "Just a minute, good boy"

"He's lovely" Cameron said, almost wistfully. House grunted in reply, giving her a plate. He sat down next to Spencer and watched him bury his hands in the noodles. Spencer laughed, his teeth like sweet corn in his gums. He picked up a handful, of meat and shoved it into his mouth. Most of it ended up on his already stained shirt and House's kitchen floor. House threw down his chopsticks and went for a cloth.

"Let's get you cleaned up again, huh?" he muttered, wiping the boy's mouth with the cloth, dislodging sauce and smearing it around his cheeks. Spencer giggled, reaching for more. "Wait, Spencer. I'll help you" House said, pushing the chair away from the table a little. He sat closer to the child and spooned some rice into his mouth. Most of it got in that time. Spencer swirled it around in his mouth, swallowed some and let the rest seep out. House caught it on the spoon and pushed it back in. Cameron sat opposite, eating quietly, smiling to herself at her suddenly vulnerable, caring boss. "Eat up"

"You're good with him" she said, leaning forward so her chin rested on her fist and her elbow on the table. House grunted skeptically and didn't reply. They got through the rest of the meal in silence, House muttering to Spencer about the food, and Cameron looking fondly at them both.

By the time it got to seven, Spencer had tried to eat almost everything in House's apartment. He'd started by staring at the books. After a moment of contemplation, he had reached out and grabbed an old, brightly coloured medical journal in Portuguese and put the corner into his mouth.

"Hey. Not for Spencer" House said firmly, taking the journal away and putting it up high. Spencer, unperturbed, moved on to the basket of logs by the fireplace. He picked a small one up as though studying it. House watched him closely, interested. Spencer ran his fingers over it, put his ear to the wood, and then put the end inside his mouth. "Not for Spencer" House repeated. It went on for another half hour, House trailing his son around, unfailingly grabbing things out of his mouth. The child had drool and food all down his top, and his hands were flapping wildly. House was fascinated by him, watching his every move. Then it got to be time for him to go to bed.

"Do you want me to give him a bath while you sit down for a bit?" Cameron asked. It was the first thing she'd said in over an hour, content to sit with a mug of coffee and watch House with his son. She thought throughout how beautiful they both were. House with his scruffy face and clothing, his cane propped at his side, keeping him standing, following the little boy around with more care and attention than anyone else could have paid. Then there as Spencer himself. His black hair was almost impossibly thick, and a little long, ending just below his ears. His eyes were, if it was possible, a brighter shade of blue than his father's. His skin was pale, his hands small and delicate. He was short for his age, and thin. He wore a diaper. Cameron felt her neediness alarm go off, for both of them. She bathed the little boy, and House came through to his room, where he'd set up a mattress on the floor for him. Cameron gave the sleepy child to House as he sat down on the rocking chair he'd brought. He sang very softly, rocking back and forth, the six year old curled up in a ball on his lap. House stroked his hair, wondering how a child could make him do such father like things. Spencer drifted off to sleep, and House deposited him very gently on his mattress. Cameron was already lying down on the couch with her cover and the journal Spencer had tried to eat.

"I didn't know you read... Whatever language this is"

"Portuguese. You got to keep updated on the latest advances. What if we have a patient, and the treatment is sitting under our nose in Arabic or Mandarin, and we don't save them because we could't read? Pretty poor show for doctors, don't you think?"

"I- I guess" she said. House sat down on the end of his couch, ignoring the chair. She moved her feet so he had space.

"Thanks for coming"

"No problem" they turned to the TV as though nothing was happening as he slowly, unconsciously, rubbed her feet.

**Sorry it's so short again. Hopefully this will kick up a bit soon, they're just getting used to each other. I don't think House is too far OOC, but he is a bit, obviously. I can see him treating a child like this as an interesting thing to observe as well as an equal human being. Dunno, what do you think?**


End file.
